Past and present merge
by LaraCarter
Summary: Another short drabble with reader insert. Might become a series later on. You were kidnapped and you have to figure out by whom, also you have to take care of the situation yourself, because Sherlock is a little tied up at the moment. Part two: /s/12814515/1/Past-and-present-merge-Part-2


She felt the hard, cold floor that she was laying down on. (Y/n) opened her eyes, the light from the ceiling blinding her, making her to close her eyes again. She took a sharp breath and opened her eyes again looking around while getting up from the concrete floor. _'Where the hell am I? No, that's not the right question (Y/n). The right question is why? Who took me here and for what? I'm not bound nor hurt. So who ever brought me here wants me alive. Good, that's good, it means I've got time to figure out why I'm here, where here is and how to get out.'_ Looking down at herself she noticed first that she had a sash tied around her neck, black and in multiple layers so basically a blindfold. _'Why around my neck as a necklace and not over my eyes? Is that a man's cologne? Smells nice. Focus, (Y/n)!'_ She observed that she was wearing the same outfit that she got on in the afternoon when she headed to pay a visit to the boys. _'I know I didn't make it to Baker Street so I was most likely drugged and kidnapped on the way there. … Of course, the cab! The divider was closed shut, probably he used something that could be vaporized, I get knocked out while he drives me to wherever I am now. Brilliant!'_ Smiling that she managed to figure out how she ended up there, (Y/n) spun around taking in the huge, empty room that she was in. Barren brick walls, big windows, some smashed, others still intact, some debris on the floor and a door; a wide opened door that was leading to what looked as a hallway.

(Y/n) started slowly towards the door, her steps as quite as she could make them and her ears pricked to notice any noise that could suggest that someone was approaching or worse that someone was cocking a gun. When she was getting ready to pass the door and get out on the hallway a voice ringed out in the room and on the corridor.

"Miss (Y/l/n), if you be so kind to put the blindfold back on. No need to worry I'll guide you through to your destination." The voice said an Irish accent being discernable.

"You'll have to give me a reason for doing that. See, if I would have been a religious person I would have said God is talking to me and I would follow, because that's what sheep do. But, alas I'm an atheist so you'll have to answer to the most important question in my opinion, and that questions is WHY? And, of course if the answer isn't reasonable I might not find it fit to follow your instructions."

"Well, the answer is very simple, darling. If you don't you're dead and so are the two innocent men that are expecting you next door."

"Next door? A blindfold is normally used so the wearer won't be able to see where he's going thus rendering him incapable to either get out from there or to come back later. Also it's used in the situation if the wearer shouldn't see someone's face, but you are definitely not in the building, so who's face am I not supposed to see, Mr. Moriarty?"

A small chuckle erupted from the speakers "It's not for any of those purposes in this case, I just want it to be a surprise for you, for your birthday." The voice said sweetly. "Put the blindfold on!" the same voice shouted the next second.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

In the other room, Sherlock woke up from his drugged induced slumber. He looked around moving his head, that being the only part of his body that he could move. He was tied to a chair in the middle of the room, his mouth covered with a silver tape. Next to him tied to another chair was a man in his late fifties, fit, strong and who was looking at him with a questioning look in his eyes, his mouth also covered with a tape.

Sherlock knew who the man was and he also knew why they were there, looking up in front of him he could see two snipers on the balcony that used to be a supervising area over the action that took place down at the floor level when the factory was still running. Down in front of him at around three meters was a table with a gun on it and nothing else. He huffed through his nose realising that (Y/n) was soon going to face him and the man next to him holding that gun in her hands.

Xxxx

(Y/n) cocked her head, thinking, her brain going a thousand miles per hour. She knew who she was talking to. John and Sherlock have told her about what happened at the pool that midnight, about Moriarty and the way he's acted. She asked them all the details they could remember about his behaviour and she managed to profile him from their description and from his actions leading to that night when she could have lost her friends. Moriarty was a sadistic psychopath with a love for games and theatrics. He loved making others dance to his tune.

(Y/n) decided that at least for the moment she'll have to dance, but she would find a way to change the tune, at least she hoped she will. She put the blindfold over her eyes and said "All right, Jim, I'll let you lead this dance, for now at least."

"Oh, good, you catch on fast. That's good, dear, very good. Continue out the door and make a right."

(Y/n) listened Moriarty's instructions and after a walk that took around three minutes and that positioned her in a room that was bigger than the one that she just left, at least that's what she thought taking in the consideration the echo her steps made when she entered it, the voice from the speakers instructed her to take her blindfold off.

Doing as instructed, (Y/n) could now see the two men tied to chairs in front of her and the table that was between her and the men. She also spotted the gun on the table and figuring out what she'll have to do next she sighed. She slowly turned around and spotted two men on the balcony, taking a mental note of their position.

"I'm going to explain to you the rules of the game, (Y/n). You better pay attention. You'll have to make a choice today. I know you're clever enough to have reached a conclusion on what that choice entails. But in case you didn't I'll help you. You'll take that gun and shoot one of them in the head."

"And if I don't?" (Y/n) asked making eye contact to Sherlock and then gazing to the other man, recognizing him.

Sherlock could see the flash of pain and sorrow passing over her face, it was there for a split second, then anger took over, raging anger, her eyes lit up with wrath and her hands balled up in fists. But it only lasted for a few short seconds and (Y/n) gained back her composure, her hands relaxed, her body only tensed enough for taking action if case need be and her face unreadable.

"(Y/n), dear, have patience, I'm getting to that part right NOW!"

The moment Moriarty shouted 'now', two red dots appeared in the middle of each man's forehead. "If you don't, they both die. And of course after that you'll die too. Very simple."

"No offence Jim, but you are not a man that I would consider trustworthy. What kind of assurance do I have that after I kill one of them, your men won't shoot me and the other?"

"You have my word! You have one minute to make your choice." A ticking sound started on the background. "Who will it be? Your best friend or your long lost daddy? I know for sure you were a daddy's girl, (Y/n). Time's ticking away, sweets."

(Y/n) took the gun from the table and got out the clip, it was full. _'This is strange, why would he give me a gun with a full clip when he asks of me to use just one bullet?'_ "Thirty seconds!". She got the clip back and charged the gun. She went around the table and headed towards Sherlock who was looking at her trying to read her face and her body language, but he couldn't see anything, for the first time since he met her he couldn't figure out what was she thinking or what her next movement will be.

(Y/n) hoped that her plan will work, but just in case it wouldn't she formulated a second one in her mind. She stopped in front of Sherlock's chair and lifted her gun to his face. Looking him in his beautiful eyes she whispered "I'm sorry!", her father was looking at her, tears forming at the corners of his eyes.

"Ten, nine, eight, se…" (Y/n) turned around and shot the sniper on her right and then the one on the left, she continued looking around, waiting others to pop up, her eyes moving rapidly over all the dark corners of the room. When she realized that there was no one else that was going to attack them she turned back to Sherlock, ripping the tape of his mouth and rushing to undo his bounds, ignoring the other man that was now dead, a gunshot wound in his head.

"Good choice (Y/n). Very good, of course it would have been easier to just shoot him yourself, after all you clearly have no problem in killing people. I enjoyed this dance (Y/n), I hope you'll go out with me again sometime. Here's my stop, I'll be getting off now." Moriarty said while (Y/n) finished untying Sherlock.

"Are you all right?" Sherlock asked her, grabbing her by her shoulders, she nodded and Sherlock took the gun from her hand and ran out from the room.

"He's not in the building, Sherlock!" (Y/n) shouted after him but he was already gone. She turned around to the chairs looking at her father. She searched his pockets and found his wallet. Opening it she read the fake name under which he lived for the last fourteen years, or maybe the name he just acquired last week. She was still looking at the ID from the wallet when Sherlock came back, looking very pissed.

"I told you he's not here. I bet those two did some mistakes in the past and this was Moriarty's way of punishing them." (Y/n) said closing the wallet and putting it back in her father's pocket. "I'm going for a drink. Did you call the police?"

"No! I texted Mycroft, this falls under his jurisdiction, considering your father's ex-job." Next second Sherlock's phone ringed and he answered, he didn't say anything he just listened and after a very short period of time he said "Fine." And stuffed the phone back in his pocket. "His sending a car. We should head outside."

"I'm not waiting for his car, I told you I'm going for a drink." (Y/n) answered leaving the room without a second look back.

"(Y/n), you are being irrational, letting your emotions takeover you." Sherlock said catching up with her and stopping her from her march by grabbing her wrist. He looked at her, observing her face and realizing that her face wasn't unreadable anymore, the anger was back so was the magnetic look in her eyes.

"Yes, thank you for informing me about something that I already know. I don't expect you to understand, nor do I want you to. You just have to accept that right now I need a drink."

"Drinking will only cloud your judgement and make you lose your clarity." He argued, trying to keep her close to him the only way he knew how. He was worried for her safety and he thought that logic would be the only way to persuade her not to leave, after all she usually was a very reason driven person.

"That's exactly what I want." She screamed and took off running, feeling her tears will burst at any moment. She was scared by what she felt and even more so by the growing desire to shut down her own mind, afraid that after twelve years of being clean she will fall back in the arms of the drugs that almost killed her in the past. So she was going to drink and she hoped that her mind will be numb enough just with the aid from the alcohol and that she won't look for something much stronger.


End file.
